


Backing the Colt

by Philomytha



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philomytha/pseuds/Philomytha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piotr takes a portion of Gregor's education in hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backing the Colt

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Lanna Michaels' prompt: Piotr Vorkosigan and Gregor Vorbarra, teaching another Vorbarra how to hold a weapon properly.

"That's good. Now, look where you want to hit, look right at it, think about it. Then, in your own time, fire."

Piotr could feel the boy's tension through his shoulders, his concentration. The Emperor fired the small training gun, and the beam went wide. His shoulders slumped.

"Try again," Piotr said sternly.

"I can't do it."

"Try again. You are Vorbarra. I taught your grandfather to shoot properly, once, and he didn't get it on the first try."

Gregor raised his hand again, looked through the sights, took a deep breath, and fired.

The target gave a bright 'ping' indicating that the beam had struck it squarely. Ah, modern tech. A hole through a paper target had been good enough in his day. But this worked well enough.

"Better," Piotr said. "Again."

"What are you _doing_?"

Gregor jumped, losing his stance and looking guilty. Piotr turned slowly.

"Gregor, what's going on?" Lady Vorkosigan demanded.

Gregor didn't say anything, his hand falling away.

"Where are you pointing that?" Piotr snapped, falling back into his teaching role. "You don't point a weapon at a person unless you mean it. Pay attention, boy!"

Gregor jumped again, but controlled his hand and carefully pointed the training gun at the ground.

"Are you all right, Gregor?" Lady Vorkosigan asked, as if the boy was a baby, dropping into a crouch to be eye level with him.

"Count Piotr--Count Piotr is showing me how to shoot," Gregor said quietly.

"I see." Lady Vorkosigan stood again. "He's six years old," she said to Piotr in a low, dangerous tone, as if this was some reason _not_ to teach him to handle weapons.

"And it's time he learned," Piotr retorted. "Not shaping up too badly, either," he added, his hand pressing the boy's shoulder. He was reminded, suddenly, painfully, of teaching Vlad and Aral how to shoot. He'd expected to teach his grandsons, in time. No chance of that now. But this was a boy a man could be proud of, once he got over that nervous streak. A nervous Emperor would be no good. Ezar had been the other way, too cocky, and Piotr'd had to put him on a curb rein until he steadied. This one would have to be led over his first fences, until he learned that he could clear them himself.

Lady Vorkosigan continued to glare, then bent back down to Gregor again. "I'm sure Aral, or Captain Illyan, will teach you to shoot if you want to learn. When you're older."

"I want to learn now," Gregor said unexpectedly. "Then... then if the soldiers come again for..." his voice faltered and he looked away, "...for anyone, I can stop them."

A jagged shard of memory sliced through Piotr at the child's simple words, the day the soldiers had come for his family. Knowing how to shoot hadn't saved Vlad. He stared unseeing at the target. Lady Vorkosigan crouched down again and pulled Gregor into a quick embrace. "The soldiers won't come again, Gregor darling. Never again. I won't let them."

Piotr wanted to snap at her not to tell lies to the Emperor, but he didn't, because some note in her voice suddenly reminded him of Olivia, and he had to swallow hard.

Gregor, he noticed, was still holding the practice gun correctly, not pointing at Lady Vorkosigan and his finger away from the trigger. Good boy.

"If you've quite finished," he said to Lady Vorkosigan, his voice harsher than usual to make up for the way she'd reminded him of Olivia, "we are in the middle of a lesson."

Lady Vorkosigan let go of Gregor but studied his face. "Are you sure, love?"

Gregor nodded, shyly but definitely.

She stood up and gave Piotr a minatory look, which Piotr returned blandly. This time at least, he'd won. She walked away slowly.

"All right. Now show me again."

The Emperor stood up straight and raised the training gun properly. Piotr watched him, only half his mind on the boy's stance--it was fine, and Piotr could spot mistakes in his sleep after so many years. He remembered suddenly when he'd been learning to shoot, a boy in a world that was changing around him day by day. _What Barrayar will you see when you're my age, boy?_

But even three score years from now, Piotr had no doubt of one thing: Gregor would still need to know how to shoot. The boy was quivering like a showjumper waiting for the bell. Piotr gave him another long appraising glance. Yes. He'd do.

"Not bad," he said. "Now, fire."


End file.
